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Akechi stops by Leblanc once after assassinating Amamiya. He makes sure to do it only after Futaba and Sojiro Sakura have both been arrested, the first as another member of the Phantom Thieves and the second as an accomplice guilty of sheltering two of them. He doesn't think either of them will last long in prison. Shido is already making plans for Sakamoto to die from a fight in juvenile detention that he'll be blamed for starting. A believable end, given his reputation for being ill-tempered. Sakura is older, Futaba was a shut-in--it would be no issue for Shido to arrange fates that fit them as well, with some time allowed for a believable decline in health.

(Akechi has to laugh, sometimes, that self-righteous Joker sold out his friends in a pitiful attempt to save himself. Other times, he hates Amamiya for not being better, for making it so simple for all of them to fall right into Shido's lap.

Most times, he just remembers the exhaustion on Amamiya's pale face and the drugged glaze in his eyes. The way he'd let Akechi gloat, his wide eyes staring ahead without focus, and how his only response had been a quiet, shaky "ah" before Akechi pulled the trigger.

The way bits of his brain had splattered out with the blood. It was the first time Akechi had killed in the physical world.)

Akechi combs the cafe, and then the Sakura residence. The neighbors peek out as he comes and goes, no doubt gathering gossip. One man is brash enough to stop him and throw around big talk about how he always knew Sakura was a bit suspicious, and that part-timer even more so, and Akechi listens politely and answers the little he can about the Phantom Thieves case still in-progress and declines the offered cup of coffee that could never hope to measure up and leaves, his smile dropping as soon as the idiot is behind his back. His victory is finally coming together, and it's satisfying, but it's also more exhausting than he had ever expected. And there's still one small problem.

Morgana.

To call Morgana a problem, even a small one, is probably giving the cat too much credit. He's really more of a loose end dangling and annoying Akechi. The rise of technology makes it easy to track people, and every other Phantom Thief is already in police custody. But the systems that track millions of humans so expertly have no hope of tracking one damn cat. There's no trace of Morgana in Yongen-Jaya. And that isn't really a problem. Without allies, Morgana is powerless, truly alone. His may be the most pitiful existence, as he can't even communicate with anyone outside of the group Akechi and Shido have crushed. Perhaps he's already realized the futility of his life and ended it, which sets Akechi down the morbidly curious train of thought for how a cat would choose to kill itself. Walking into traffic seems easiest. Especially at night. All cats are gray and barely seen in the dark. The driver might feel a pang of guilt if they were a cat lover, but nothing serious, and it could be over quickly if Morgana positioned himself right.

Akechi wishes he could believe that Morgana would make it easy on everyone and get rid of himself. Sometimes the wind howling through the winding tunnels of Mementos has the assassin casting Makarakarn on himself, thinking that a Garudyne is coming his way. Morgana could never hope to actually defeat him in a fight, of course: the differences between their power and experience are far too great.

But.

He could try.

And so Akechi plans to kill the little shadow-creature first.

Needing to switch trains at Shibuya station anyway, Akechi contemplates entering Mementos for a few checks, only to shake his head at himself. His bike is stashed in the entrance accessed through Nagatachou station, by the Diet building. Without Morgana's use as a vehicle, Shibuya station is no longer relevant for him. Not having to walk or bike everywhere in the Metaverse must be what he misses most about working with the Phantom Thieves, now that they're gone.

...It must be.

Ah, he feels like a bite to eat. He heads to the Yon-Germain bakery and grabs a moist katsu bun; he's a little surprised to see them on sale when it's not raining, but he won't question his luck. The savory meal is a comforting indulgence, and he's tucking into it neatly but earnestly while walking to his next train when a voice startles him.

"Yo! Akechi."

He nearly chokes on his bun and hastily raises one gloved hand to stifle the resulting cough. Speak of the devil. His eyes fall on the small black cat threading its way to him through other station-goers' legs while dodging at least one set of hands. If Morgana is trying to kill him by surprise, he nearly succeeded. The detective expected Morgana to attempt to ambush him in the Metaverse, where he has at least a scrap of power... yet the cat's approaching him casually, as though nothing has happened, in the real world, where he's nothing more than a talking nuisance.

The only advantage Morgana has here is that Akechi doesn't want to ruin his reputation by doing something outrageous in public. "And what are you doing here?" Akechi asks, a question that could certainly be asked rhetorically to any cat that decided to meander into a train station.

"Looking for you, obviously," Morgana says. "I want to talk."

To talk? Ridiculous. "You don't really belong here," Akechi points out. Still something one might say to any cat without expecting an answer.

The cat rolls his eyes. "Let's get out of here, then. Unless you've got a train to catch?"

Akechi drops his voice. "I do, as a matter of fact."

"Fine. See you some other time, then."

No, that won't do at all. Right now, with Morgana right in front of him, is the best time to take care of him. "I suppose I could catch the next one," Akechi says, checking the time on his phone for a second. He lowers his voice. "This better be worth my while. To Mementos, then?"

"Nah." Morgana cocks his head at Akechi. "Until we can both be assured of each other's intentions, let's stay where there are other people around."

Ah. So the cat does have some measure of self-preservation. Akechi flashes him a smile. "If I'm caught talking to a cat, other people will think poorly of me."

"You have your phone right there! Just pretend you're calling someone. Easy."

That condescending attitude has always been Morgana's most obnoxious trait. He's just smart enough to be more intelligent than Sakamoto, and egotistical enough to think that's some great accomplishment. Pretending to have a phone call is an obvious course of action, yet he sounds so smug for saying it.

Akechi still puts the phone to his ear and lets the last Phantom Thief lead the way out of the station. If he indulges Morgana now, the cat will be more likely to have its guard down later.

A drop of liquid hits Akechi's sleeve as he walks out, dark on the fabric but quickly fading; he briefly glances up. "Rain...?"

The sky is cloudless, but Morgana flicks his tail. "So you feel it too?"

Hm. It must be a very light drizzle, then, which works for Akechi, since he doesn't have his umbrella. The forecast hadn't called for rain at all. "So, what did you want to say?" Akechi asks in a pleasant tone. If he's too serious, some busybody might get curious what he's talking about, even if they don't realize he's talking to the feline strolling ahead of him.

"Mementos is convenient for your real work, isn't it?" Morgana glances back. "And don't play dumb. It's obvious who you are now with that fake suicide."

Ah, Morgana's cutting straight to the chase. But Akechi decides to bait him a little, push him off-balance. "I arranged certain events. But how do you know he didn't decide to end things himself? Considering his position..."

Black fur bristles up, but the cat says calmly enough: "He wouldn't have. He didn't want to die. If he had, he wouldn't have given up the others' names."

"Then you think the blame for what happened rests with me? If that's so, I have to wonder why you would approach me. Surely you hate me?"

"Hating you won't make me human again."

"Oh? What a cold practicality." In front of the Hachiko statue, too. Ah, well. The lack of loyalty just shows why dogs are preferable to cats as pets. Not that Akechi's ever had the money and time for a pet, but lately he finds himself tempted to linger whenever he passes by a shiba inu.

"That's some way to talk. You're pretty cold yourself." Morgana stops and stretches, eyeing Akechi. A second before they would come within arm's reach, Morgana straightens himself and quickly pads away, putting more distance between them again. "The fact of the matter is we can help each other. You help me reach the depths of Mementos with your 'good reputation', and I help you take care of your less savory errands. Unless you want to keep biking everywhere. I guess some humans are obsessed with exercise."

If Morgana knows about the bicycle, he must have looked for Akechi on another occasion and found the Nagatachou entrance. The fact that Akechi didn't found him sooner is vexing--he's the better of them at stealth, he knows from spying on the Phantom Thieves in Madarame's Palace, then trailing them in Okumura's, all the while never being caught--but it can be put down to a matter of timing. Perhaps Morgana was sniffing around the Metaverse while he was busy with matters in the real world.

The offer can't be considered, of course. It's too large of a risk. But there is something attractive about it. "That's a lopsided deal, isn't it?" Akechi asks. "I might be able to make your life actually meaningful, but you can only offer me convenience."

"Hey!" Morgana yowls, turning on him with narrowed eyes. "It isn't just convenience! You can't cast Samarecarm on yourself if you need it."

"I've never needed it yet."

Morgana mutters something dark about overconfidence, but Akechi's smile only widens. It's an interesting prospect, for the two of them to exchange aid even now. The offer might even be sincere--Morgana didn't try to deny hating him, yet the cat is so helpless, so desperate that he'll come to the man who brought down his precious friends and ask for help. He might want to present it as an even exchange, but that's just a balm for wounded pride.

Morgana needs him. And as long as Morgana needs him, perhaps even with the enmity between them now, they could... No. Ridiculous. Even now, Morgana is showing he has no sense of loyalty. Pets and owners really do come to resemble each other, don't they?

Akechi needs to string Morgana along, so he can finally be rid of the brat. The detective makes a show of considering. "Is that all you have to offer?"

Morgana gives him an incredulous look. "A partner to revive you isn't enough? How greedy can you be?"

"As I've just told you, I've never needed such help. Well, if that's all..."

"Wait. I said wait!" Morgana almost yells in a panicked rush when Akechi turns away. "...Ren was having the airsoft owner work on something for him. We were never planning on stopping the changes of heart, see."

Akechi scoffs, a bit rueful, and shakes his head. "So it was an empty deal on both sides. Then, this 'something'..."

"A weapon. ...A genuine one, so it'd be more powerful in cognition."

"I would have heard about such a thing. The police would have seized it when they arrested the shop owner." It wouldn't be the first time Shido and his police contacts have left him out of the loop, but Akechi is hardly about to admit that to Morgana. It's something he should have known, and the cat better have a good reason why he didn't.

Morgana snorts. "If they found it. You think the airsoft owner didn't take precautions? That man was so paranoid, he wouldn't even tell Ren where it was hidden. The only reason I know is because of my superior stealth."

"I'm sure it helped that the man had no reason to suspect a cat."

The ears and tails on said cat both droop. "I'll show you," he mutters. "When I'm human..."

...Ah, Akechi figures. He's probably given Morgana enough grief. Time to show mercy, before a pitifully bruised ego makes his target run off. "Perhaps you will," he says. "Show me this weapon. If it's useful, I'll consider your deal."

The ears prick back up, but Morgana eyes him suspiciously. "What's to say you won't just take the gun and leave?"

Ah, so it is a gun. He already has one, but he is curious. And it may be useful to have a weapon Shido doesn't know about. However, it seems Morgana needs repeated reminders of his disadvantaged position in this negotiation. "What's to say I won't just leave now?"

"...Right."

Morgana leads the way to the airsoft shop, not that Akechi needs directions. He's been here before, has seen Amamiya skulk off into the alleyway. Most of Amamiya's confidants will be able to get away clean, but Munehisa Iwai has the misfortune of having the exact sort of suspicious look needed to sell the Phantom Thieves' guilt. They're only teenagers, yes, but they had been supplied by a former yakuza who carried airsoft guns so realistic that, why, he might have been slipping real guns to his clients here and there...apparently the planned rumor even has some truth to it. The media would need only to drop the proper hints and let the public convince themselves of how murderous the Phantom Thieves were.

When they reach the shop, Morgana attempts to pick the lock on the door himself, clumsily, but springs aside when Akechi strides forward with impatience. He really is pathetic. The lock yields to human fingers in a matter of seconds.

The dark shop can graciously be described as 'cluttered'. Iwai was not allowed time to close his shop when he was arrested, though Akechi doubts the state of things would be much better if he had. There's too much inventory for the space, a common issue in smaller stores. Some storeowners seem to prefer it that way, even; an airsoft store probably did not expect much foot traffic in the first place. There are glass displays to both sides, with a machine gun model Takamaki might have used at some point resting on the one to the left. Nearby a mannequin carries an assault rifle, though it's slanted oddly. Perhaps it's only the lack of lighting, or maybe it was pushed around by one of the police officers or Iwai himself during the arrest. A vending machine stands to the right, as does a floor-to-ceiling wire rack displaying clothes for the enthusiast. Deeper in the store, a light fixture dangles precariously, suspended only by one of its ends. Did that break during the arrest, or have there been vandals since?

With the thought of possible other intruders in mind, Akechi startles at a head glaring down at him from the ceiling, then grits his teeth in irritation. It's just another mannequin bust, like a few others scattered around the store; unlike its brethren, it's bare, lacking any headgear to display. Iwai had simply thrown a mannequin head atop a perilously stacked pile of boxes as though it would keep them all in place. How idiotic. The man really hadn't cared for organization at all. The broken light fixture might just be more evidence of his shoddy oversight.

"This way," Morgana says, his business-like tone not completely hiding his amusement. Damned cat. He'd been just as smug in Sae Niijima's House of Darkness.

It gets even darker in the backroom, lacking any windows to let in ambient light. Akechi reaches for the switch on the wall, and when flipping it yields no result, the flashlight function on his cell phone.

"Ugh, that's so bright," Morgana complains, so Akechi aims it straight at him. "Hey!"

He flees into the cluttered shelving units for cover. Light sensitivity not so great now, is it? But Akechi isn't here to be petty; that's just a bonus. "Where's the gun?"

"The unit to your right. There's a hidden compartment in the third shelf."

Akechi approaches the spot, only pausing a brief second as his head pulses with pain. He's no stranger to headaches, considering how hard Shido works him at times, so it's easy to shrug off and inspect the shelves. He reaches with his free hand, fingers searching for any tell-tale sign of something out of place in the shelf, and when he doesn't find anything obvious, lifts his cell phone, angling its beam--

Something hard rockets into the back of his hand. The blunt force impact is so sudden and painful that his hand spasms, the phone drops--and something darts beneath him, scooping it up. A black, bipedal blur. Morgana's Metaverse form.

That little fucking sneak. There's no time to think, just react. "LOKI!" Akechi screams. His outfit of rebellion isn't present, nothing has recognized him as a threat, but the Metaverse is his world; he'll MAKE it recognize him as a threat, and Morgana will pay. Loki manifests, and curse energy lances in the direction that Morgana disappeared, shattering a shelving unit and spilling cognitive trash to the floor. But there's no cry of pain. A miss, then, and Akechi snarls, scanning the darkness, ignoring the pain still radiating through his hand from the slingshot's sting. "You idiot," he calls out. "I was considering letting you live, but now? Now, I'll crush you."

That Morgana was ever going to survive today is a lie, of course. But he wants that miserable cat to regret its abysmal decisions as much as possible.

The answer he gets is the shutter-click sound of the camera app, even though pictures can't be taken in the Metaverse. Akechi's head snaps in the direction it came from, curses springing to mind, only held in check as he remembers: he needs that phone back. The Metanav is his way between worlds. He can't blindly wreak destruction, much as he wants to. Maybe Morgana meant to remind him of that.

There's more than one way to skin a cat, though. Akechi wills the serrated sword formed from his rebellious spirit to his hand before stalking toward that direction. Boxes rustle; Morgana darts just as Akechi lunges, skewering the cardboard the brat was hiding behind. More cognitive trash spills to the floor, and Akechi growls in irritation as he charges back to the front of the store after the little monster.

Then his sword disappears. Akechi glances down at his hand, grasping for the weapon it was just holding, before eyeing his surroundings warily. He spies his phone on the floor by one of the display racks; Morgana must have dropped it in bringing them both back into the real world, giving up hands able to carry the device. But Akechi doesn't immediately go for it, instead reaching for one of the nearby rods. A weapon with enough heft is always dangerous, 'fake' or not. "Are you already giving up?" Akechi calls. "What a shame. A trick like that only works once, and you didn't even use it well. Try shifting us back again and I'll destroy you in a heartbeat." He wouldn't put it past Morgana to press his luck, but this time, Akechi knows to expect it.

Minutes pass with no response, no sound that Akechi can hear besides his own breathing and the pitter patter of light rain against the windows. Either the little devil is hiding or it's fled completely, but Akechi needs his phone back. He takes a step forward, then another, checking his bond with Loki to be sure he still has both feet in the real world. He keeps checking as he inches toward the phone, but nothing happens, and there's no sign of Morgana. That's not too promising in a fire hazard of a store like this with things strewn about in the dark, but he at least can't be in the display rack. That's only half full, fake knives on the top shelf, empty on the bottom.

As Akechi leans over to pick up the phone, he realizes it's sitting on top of something else, a card. In the dim light, it's not until he's picked up the phone that he recognizes the swirls of red and black on an imitation calling card.

There's a chink of metal, and the briefest flash of movement in the corner of his eye, black and the white tip of a tail. A loud crash with glass shattering, and a heavy weight slamming into his chest. Akechi finds himself sprawled on the floor, pinned by the fallen display rack. He blinks in a daze, instantly aware of a sharp pain that's making it hard to get the air back in his lungs.

Make that several sharp pains that intensify when he pushes against the rack, instantly stopping his attempt to get out from under it, and it's chillingly clear that some of the knives he assumed were fake were not.

The phone was placed as bait. He should have used his rod to drag it toward him, away from the top-heavy display.

But it's--it'll be okay. He's been hurt worse in the Metaverse. It's probably not as bad as it feels.

He can't possibly be killed by a cat.

"Goro Akechi, the traitorous Black Mask," the voice of said cat calls, though then it pauses. He cranes his head to see, upside-down, Morgana looking at him with a strange look on its face. "You have stolen many lives, including those of my comrades. I can't steal your desires, so instead, consider this revenge for...for my friends, the Phantom Thieves."

It's clear he's reciting the calling card he couldn't write because he has paws, the same way he couldn't have set this up because he couldn't even get into the store with it locked--unless. Unless he'd just been feigning the clumsiness?

"You're wrong," Akechi wheezes, partially because Morgana is wrong and partially grasping for what he needs to get out of this situation. He needs healing. The Phantom Thieves were all so attached to their idea of justice. Morgana is wrong. If he can be convinced of that, maybe-- "You can't blame me for all of them when Amamiya was the one--"

"Shut up!" Morgana yells, his expression twisting into a clear snarl of anger. "You did something to Ren! He knew you were going to kill him, he had no reason to make a deal like that with Sae Niijima! You--those cops-- Either someone's lying, or you hurt him so badly he couldn't even remember right, or think right--" The cat chokes up with what sounds like a sob.

The rack seems to weigh heavier and heavier by the minute. "...He knew?" It certainly hadn't seemed like that in the interrogation room. It'd been clear from his expression he'd been drugged, but...so badly he'd forget something like that?

"You let Futaba get a hold of your phone, genius. We all knew you were planning to kill him. We should have just killed you in the Palace and taken our chances," Morgana says bitterly.

"You wouldn't have killed me in the Metaverse."

"Yeah, well, I bet you didn't think I could kill you out here in the real world, did you? Cocky son of a bitch," Morgana shoots back, but then uncertainty bleeds into his voice. "...Are you dying? I wasn't sure this plan would... but I had to try something."

None of the Phantom Thieves are killers. Morgana had wanted revenge, but doesn't seem to have the stomach to watch someone die. If he can be pushed to regret, he might take Akechi into the Metaverse and heal him.

"I'm hurt," Akechi says, because it's too much to say out loud he's dying. Maybe he's not. God, he hopes not. "Do you really want me dead? If I do die, Morgana, there's no one left that can help you become human."

It's the wrong thing to say, because Morgana's expression hardens. There was probably no right thing to say at this point, anyway. "Oh, yeah. That's too bad," Morgana says, his tone an attempt at flippancy that's far too bitter. "So what? Akechi, with humans like you..." His eyes screw up as he starts to shout. "With humans like you, what's so great about being one, anyway?!"

The cat breathes heavily, as though having to fight back tears. Akechi scowls, but saves his breath. It's obviously the sour grapes of a brat who knows he'll never have what he wanted most. 'With humans like you'? Akechi's hardly the worst out there. Morgana knows very little of human cruelty. But he's not wrong, either. Humanity, especially in the sense of any inherent goodness, is a fucking sham. Living, though, just living--that's something Akechi isn't ready to let go of yet, and he uses what breath he has to raise his voice to a shout:

"Help!"

His voice is weak, too weak, but the cry startles Morgana. The cat's eyes fly open again as he takes two quick steps back from Akechi, staring warily--

Morgana's eyes are yellow now.

Akechi stares back at him, confused, but yells for help again. The cat takes another step back, a low growl rumbling in its throat, and then releases a spitting hiss of warning at Akechi before dashing and hiding behind the store counter.

"Morgana," Akechi calls, but the cat makes no response. "Morgana?" The boy can't hold the disbelief back from his voice. It's as if denouncing humanity was enough to make Morgana shed what little bit he had, and now he's nothing more than a stray cat.

Which makes him of no help. Akechi pushes him out of mind, and puts all his energy into shouting. The store is out of the way of most city traffic, but they're still in the middle of Shibuya. He can hope someone will hear and find him. Even if going to a hospital for this will raise all sorts of questions with Shido, he can deal with that later, just so long as he lives now. But his voice is getting weaker and weaker, and the rain on the window is getting louder and louder from the gentle patter to sounding like a typhoon. The windows rippling with falling sheets of...red...? And as Akechi feels himself tiring, his vision starting to darken, he can feel something wet pooling on the floor touch his cheek...

When Akechi's eyes open again, it's to a wall of blue velvet.

"And thus, the game is concluded," a deep voice intones, and Akechi turns--gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest--to see an old man with a hideously long nose grinning at him. "I suppose congratulations are in order. This is as close to a victory as you could be expected to obtain. You eliminated the opposing champion and even laid bare the frailty of that 'hope' Igor prattled on about."

Akechi doesn't respond to him. He's too busy staring at the cell opposite his. Slumped inside is someone who looks impossibly like Amamiya, even though he should be dead.

Akechi should be dead too. This whole scenario is impossible, what has to be some dying dream. Akechi still calls out, grasping for some semblance of familiarity. "Amamiya?"

Amamiya's head lolls against his chest before it lifts weakly. The first thing Akechi sees is the bullet hole in his forehead--it's impossible not to see it, still bloody as if he was shot only a minute ago.

The second thing Akechi sees is how absolutely dead Amamiya's gaze is, and he knows, then, he isn't going to get a response. Whether it's the effect of the drugs or having been dead for weeks or, hell, having gotten his brains blown out--

That's not the rival he knew anymore.

The old man chuckles. "Yes, the Trickster was your opponent, though a disappointment. In the end, you are truly both son of men, and accordingly, you shall have the same reward. The same punishment. As shall all mankind. This game has reached its end."

He disappears, and the walls of the prison shake. Red rain smelling of blood begins to leak into the cells, staining the velvet.